When Juices Flow Freely

I wake up with my hand between my legs. Fleeting images from my dream keep my hand in place. My breathing is soft, and wanting. Drops of rain patter against my dark window; soft moonlight illuminates the shadow of the cherry tree into my small room. I bury my face into my pillow, annoyed that I can't fulfill my need to attain orgasm. My clit throbs, though my pussy is drying. I try in vain to get my juices flowing, but as soon as I dip my finger into my wanting flower, I notice a shadow moving on the corner of my wall. My bed dips down as my finger dips in, and the heat of my invisible companion scorches me.

Hands run down my face and neck, and as they continue their descent I moan softly. My hands are retained above my head, yet my companion allows them to stay on my bed. Slowly, the shape of my companion becomes known to me; as I stare into luminescent green eyes my own orange ones dilate to drink in the slopes and curves of his face. His force keeps my naughty hands in place as his own mischievous paws slide up my legs to the parts of me created for this moment.

"You've been trying again haven't you?" His whisper holds equal parts mirth and cruelty.

I know better than to touch myself, but I cannot resist the way he touches me when I do. I don't answer, except to try to catch his flesh with my teeth. His hands tighten on my breast and thigh when I lick the underside of his throat. I feel myself getting wet, and he smirks as he inhales my scent. He towers over my sixty three centimeter frame; his seventy two centimeters allows him to cage my body under his.

His tumescence grows rigid as my belly writhes under it, he teases my body into goosebumps and longing. It is a game he has played with me all through the night for years, and he has yet to penetrate me. He whispers in my ear, knowing it makes waves of sensation run down my spine. My toes curl as he gently traces patterns on my belly and back, my caramel hands never allowed to touch his toffee skin.

Suddenly, my companion changes the game. His hands, though usually avoidant of my pussy, encompasses my mound. My tangerine breasts are molded to his elegant hands, though rough and callused from his hobbies. My clit thrums when he brushes his thumb in a circle. My moans and sighs do not faze him; as his possession I'm supposed to mean nothing to him. But I know I mean much to him; he has left my body intact, when he could've taken everything I had and destroyed it.

As a shade, he is used to living in darkness. But it is during the night when he becomes a light, and this night of all nights he has decided to shine his light on me. His eyes never leave my own, but his lips, for the first time, come crashing down on mine. He tastes of peppermint and pepper, his lips are soft; his velvet tongue battles mine for dominance, though he already has dominance over me.

After he steals my breath, he looks at my face. His face is carefully composed, with moonlight and shadow dancing across his angular face and smooth square chin. His baritone timbre questions my consent. I agree wholeheartedly; he trusts me enough to let my wrists go. With tenderness and grace I feel my companion, my master's muscular body. I cup his face and kiss him deeply while he allows me to be on top. His hands squeeze my plump ass and I nibble his flesh everywhere on his face and neck.

When he bites me I groan and quiver with need. I run my moisturized pussy up and down his cock, and lick his windpipe as he thrusts his head back. His steely arms imprison me and still my attempts to bring us pleasure.

"Do you want this?" He asks me unguardedly.

"Please," I whisper, "I need you closer to my soul."

Before I can fully say my answer, I am flipped back into my familiar position on my back, with him on top of me. Only now he is slowly entering my most wet and wanting part of myself. I moan and he shushes me with a smoldering kiss. He slowly enters me, his short, black curly hair rubs my cheek as he buries his face in my long brunette locks. He bites my collarbone, my muscles clench at the intrusion and the pain.

My hands dig into his muscled back, sweat shines on our skin from the slow pace and exertion. My mouth opens in a silent scream as he slowly thrusts his seven inches into my core. His mouth sucks my skin and I am overloaded with sensation; my legs and hips buck tightly around his waist, and my hands go everywhere as my mind melts from this foreign touch.

He threads his slender fingers through my hair and I grip his forearms when he increases his frequency. As I try to match his thrusts with my own, the intensity of his dilated green eyes and the sweat of his toffee brown skin and the smell of his sweat makes the deepest part of my body boil like a witches cauldron.

His gentle kisses on my forehead don't match the ferocity and harshness of our coupling; his bites begin to deepen as our bodies begin to reach a nirvana like we've never experienced before. It is with one last shaky, sharp gasp that I, and the world as I know it, am undone. I bite him as hard as I can as my core explodes with sensation; lights seem to dance off our skin as he bites me similarly. His thrust slams into me as he spills himself into my pussy.

I am sated; I purr with satisfaction as he offers me taste of our souls combined. My limbs twitch in the aftermath of my first orgasm, my first coupling. He smiles lazily, not caring that I drew blood on his skin. The pain I feel from his bites diminish rapidly, and he holds me to his chest like a bird in a cage as the mango sun rises.

I don't realize that I'm slumbering, or that he has left me, until the light hitting my eyes forces me to open my eyes. It takes me a moment to recover from the dream; my hands are still in between my legs when the rooster cries.